


(Not) Alone

by Larkawolfgirl



Series: 100 Ways to Say I Love You [19]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Emotional Hurt, Established Relationship, Grief/Mourning, Hurt No Comfort, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-07
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-12 22:55:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29891811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Larkawolfgirl/pseuds/Larkawolfgirl
Summary: Their retreat from Zegnautus is heavy with the silence of the weight crushing them. They are slow-moving, as if the weight is tangible and enough to burden their bones, perhaps even grind them down if given the chance.
Relationships: Gladiolus Amicitia/Prompto Argentum/Ignis Scientia, Gladiolus Amicitia/Prompto Argentum/Noctis Lucis Caelum/Ignis Scientia
Series: 100 Ways to Say I Love You [19]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1165382
Kudos: 8





	(Not) Alone

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: Drive safely
> 
> I can't believe how long it's been since I posted. I have no excuse except life and writer's block, but hey, that's the usual.

Their retreat from Zegnautus is heavy with the silence of the weight crushing them. They are slow-moving, as if the weight is tangible and enough to burden their bones, perhaps even grind them down if given the chance. That is something none of them will allow, but right now, when the wound is so fresh, there is little they can do but let it fester. They are still a unit, but without Noctis to guide them, they feel aimless. Ignis has never been the leader, but the mantle easily falls to him, his words clear and precise as usual, only altered by the deadpan tone. 

Exit the keep, return to Lucis. Simple enough; except it’s not. They are down a man in a demon cesspool and one step closer to the edge of not caring if they take that one wrong step. Eventually, they do make it out, though, and the sun burns down at them. They have lost the Regalia, but Prompto, being the mech wiz he is, manages to hijack what must be some soldier’s Hummer. As grateful as he is they can set out, Ignis is less grateful the blonde is the one sitting behind the wheel. It is with good reason only himself and Noctis drove the Regalia, and yet, he no longer has the capabilities and Noctis is no longer with them. To be honest, he could probably trust Gladio with anything besides the family treasure, but Prompto is another story. 

“Prompto,” he begins evenly, his voice startling the blonde due to how few words they have exchanged since the event, “I appreciate your skills, however, I think it would be best if Gladio drove.”

“But, Iggy…” The tremor in his voice is so evident Ignis can imagine the sorrowful look that must be on his face now. Big, watery, blue eyes, trembling lip, quick, shallow intakes of air. The older man heaves an elongated sigh. This is not what they need right now. They need safety and course of action. They do not have time for the blonde’s insecurities at the moment--and yet--Ignis cannot live with himself knowing that this is more than that for Prompto. He must surely be feeling as bad as Ignis if not worse for not being able to do  _ more _ . 

Hoping with all that he is still able at this point (having realizing they are nothing but the gods' playthings, trading his autonomy, and losing Noctis), he relents. “Alright, but please, do drive safely. For all of our sakes.” The fact he is including Noctis in that statement goes without saying. 

Instead of taking shotgun, Gladio climbs into the back and takes his hand. It is the first touch any of them have shared since the event and Ignis' skin cries at the contact. “He’ll come back,” Gladio says with all the assurance of someone with nothing else to live for. Because really, he doesn’t. 

“You are right,” Ignis says with the assurance of someone who knows but also knows more. Someone who knows the horrible truth that sleeps on his tongue like acid. He squeezes Gladio’s hand, traces over his fingers one at a time, pleads that somehow he and Prompto can hold this man together, that they can hold each other together, when the time finally comes. A day, a year, a decade from now. 

Prompto makes a noise from the front but it is impossible to decipher over the sound of the engine. Ignis favors it is a noise of assent, pretends it means that Prompto is strong enough to support them when the world crumbles beneath them. 

Because he knows he won’t be able to do it alone. 


End file.
